Do the Angels Still Fly?
by Bloody Englishman
Summary: What may have happened after The Real Folk Blues. (And more importantly, what should have happened.) The grey one finds his peace.
1. So Vicious

  


So Vicious

  


I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't understand why or how, but I was still alive. Even the pool of my own blood was cold. I couldn't move my arms, and simply breathing grew harder and harder. The Jericho's bullet pierced sharply into my chest. I could even feel the hole it drilled through me. Filling up with blood, then empting out on the floor. It continued on with this vicious cycle.

Vicious. Poor word choice. I would have never thought that word could make me smile. That was even harder to believe, the fact that I was smiling. Not a twisted or sick smile, but a smile-smile. Something was funny. What could be so funny? The fact that I lost? The fact that Julia was gone? Maybe just that I could use that word, not as a name. What was my name? I can't remember any more. That was too long ago. So long since I had become Vicious. So long since...

"Bang." There was a thud. I wasn't sure what it was at first. I tryed to sort through my mind, wondering if I had even heard it. But, I knew I had. It was Spike. What else could it be? Who else said that? I knew he had fallen, too. I wondered if he was smiling. He was. Of course he was. That was the last thing I'd ever hear him say. And I was glad. It was better than what he had said before. "Julia is dead. Let's finish this." He was so blunt. So cold. So....vicious.

There it was again. Why was I using that word so much? Maybe just because I was dead. I didn't know if I was dead or not. Maybe I was dead. Maybe my soul was just dreaming. Watching the events that surrounded my death. I could hear them, though. I must have been alive. I felt alive. Just barely, but I did feel alive. The voices. The members of the syndicate had gathered around to look at us. They were saying something about the blood. Hadn't they seen blood before? Then again, we had spilt alot of it. If I could've made a noise, some sort of sound, they would have rushed to me. They would save me. But, what would the point be? Maybe I didn't need to be alive. Maybe I was supposed to die. This could be the price I pay for living the way I did. Living so...well, you know. Then I heard the voices again. They were closer. Hovering around me. What were they saying? The blood again.

"We can get get him out of here. We have to." They were saving me. Why would they want to save me? I suppose everything I had said really got to them. The syndicate didn't need weaklings. I knew that, but I still didn't want to go on. Did I really want to lead the syndicate? Or was it just some plot to get Spike? Whatever the reason, they did look up to me. They did respect me as a leader. My ideals had sparked them to rebel against the Van. Then in one fatal swoop, we had overcome them. We had come together to overthrow those old fools. So stuborn. They never wanted to give up their old-fasioned ways. I was glad they were gone. The voices were talking again. What now? It was about me again. They weren't sure if I'd make it. "Its bad, though. He's hurt bad. Look at that wound." Oh no. They weren't thinking it, were they? "He's bleeding everywhere. That bullet hole is so bad." I knew I could speak. "So deep. So..."

"Er...uh..." I coughed, feeling the blood pour out of my lips. "...so...vicious."


	2. Spike's Solo

  


Do the Angels Still Fly?

  
by: the Bloody Englishman (I don't own Cowboy Bebop. All the names, places, and events have pretty much stayed the same, to protect the innocent...from being sued.)  
Spike's Solo  
Ed wondered around the empty halls of the Bebop. Ein followed close behind. She looked from room to room, but no one seemed to be around.  
"Jet-person! Faye-Faye!" She called out into the empty air. "No one home, huh Ein?" Ein yawned. Ed wondered about, finally coming to the cockpit. A small note was taped to the screen. Ed picked it up and read aloud, "Gone to store. Be back soon. Jet."  
The air was cold in the graveyard. Faye wrapped her coat about her, filling the tiny drops of rain sprinkle on her skin. She roamed along the pathway, searching desperately to find what she was after. The clouds overhead were thick and gray.  
"It'll start snowing soon." She thought to herself. Faye continued along the cold path. "Its gotta be here, somewhere." Faye rounded a bend. She stopped to see a large willow tree. Slowly, Faye approached the two graves just beyond it. Not bothering to read the one on her right, she immediately stooped down to the left grave. Running her fingers along the letters, she read them to herself, "Spike Spigel." She felt tears well up in her eyes. "I've found you." The raindrops began to let up. The sky remained just as cloudy, though. "I've missed you, ya' know. We all have. Me, Jet, Ed...Oh, that's right. Ed came back. Ein too. You didn't really think we were rid of them, did you?" Wind blowed through her hair. "We're okay, though. You don't have to worry. Jet's leg is much better. He's been keeping us pretty busy. We caught this 11 million wulong bounty the other day. I really wish you had been there. After this big shoot-out, Jet came up behind him and wrestled him to the ground. You would've loved it." She brushed her hair back. Faye sat silent a moment, almost expecting an answer. "I'm not mad. I wasn't. I'm sorry if that's what it sounded like. I was just scared, that's all. I was afraid to lose you. You and Jet...and even Ed. You guys were like the family I'd always wanted. I know I got on your nerves, but...I..." Faye found herself at a loss for words. "Ein was our pet, and Ed was like an annoying little sister. Jet was like a father, always so strong and secure. And you, Spike. You were like a big brother to me. Always there to joke around with, to make fun of Jet when we could. You were always there to lend me a cigarette. Someone for me to worry about." She glanced over to the grave beside his. "I really wasn't mad. I guess I was scared...and jealous. I knew next to nothing about my past, and you were running off to yours. You were ready to die for your past. I guess I can't blame you, though. You loved her. I've heard that's all that matters. I'm glad you were able to find her. I hope you're with her now. I hope you two are..." Faye sniffled. She knew she would start crying if she went on. Faye kissed her fingers and pressed them on the tombstone, feeling the cold of the stone linger. She stood up and turned, ready to walk away, humming a sweet song.  
"Ed, where's Jet?"  
Ed shrugged her shoulders. "Jet-person dropped off groceries and left again."  
"He didn't say where he was going?"  
"Uh-uh." Ed looked Faye over. "Faye-Faye's wet, Faye-Faye's wet..." She danced about the living room. Faye groaned at the song.  
The rain had returned to a steady pace. It rolled off Jet's hat and fell in small streams behind him. He approached the graves, dropping what was left of his cigarette. Walking past a willow tree, Jet looked at the names on the two graves. He smiled as he read them.  
"Julia." Jet tipped his hat to her tombstone. He turned to the other. "Hey, Spike. Long time, no see." Jet walked casually towards the grave. "Sorry I didn't come by sooner. We've been kind of busy. You know how it is." Jet took out his pack of cigarettes. "Brought ya' somethin'. I didn't think you were the type for flowers, so I brought something I knew you would like." Jet bent down and sat the pack of cigarettes on his grave. Jet stood tall over the grave and smiled. "God, you were trouble. But, I couldn't imagine those three years without you. I still don't see what the point was, but if you found what you were looking for, I'm happy." Jet looked up towards the gray sky. "We waited there for so long. I honestly thought you were coming back. It seemed unreal that you could have actually died. It really felt like a dream that I was slowly coming out of. When I finally woke up, I realized you were gone, and things wouldn't be the same." Jet looked back down at the grave. "But that's alright. I know you had do go. They say good things never last, and I guess that's true. No use in worrying about it, huh? Just let the past stay buried." Jet smiled. "Don't worry. I'll take care of the girls. You can rest now. The weight's finally off your shoulders." Jet turned, slowly walking away. "Don't worry about me, either. It's really not too heavy."  
"Bartender, fill me up again." Jet held out his glass of ice. After making sure the bartender didn't skimp on the gin, he took a long gulp. Looking to the side, he noticed there was another man sitting on the other side of the smokey bar. Jet walked over, thinking it would be nice of him to make conversation. He sat down in the stool next to the man. "Hey! Whatcha' drinkin' there?"  
The man took a sip of his drink. "......Vodka."  
"Good stuff." Jet took another drink and continued on in his sloppy voice. "So, why do ya' think guys like us are all alone, gettin' drunk in a place like this? Huh?" The man didn't bother answering. "Quiet, eh. That's fine. Don't mind a bit." Jet took another drink. "I do a'little gardening. Bonzai trees. Helps relax. Bartender! Gimme' another glass." The quiet man took another sip as Jet had his filled again. "Yep. What's yer' name, buddy?"  
"....It doesn't really matter. I'll be gone soon, and why would you remember me?"  
"Yeah, guess I can un-erstatnd that. Makes sense to, Hic! Scuse' me. Sorry 'bout that. I can't be held 'sponsible for some kid. Teenagers don't make no sense to me. Ya' know?" The man finished his drink, left a few bills on the bar, and began walking to the door. "Where ya' goin'? Leavin' already?" The man continued on, saying nothing. "Come on. I didn't even get yer' name."  
"I have none. I am what you see. I am what I've always been."  
"That's funny. Seriously, people gotta call you somethin'. What do they call you?" As the man spoke, the ice in Jet's glass fell off one another. His eyes widened. Jet nearly gasped as he instantly sobered up. With a single word, the memories had risen back up, and the man had left, leaving only that single word behind.  
".............Vicious."  
_To be continued...  
_


	3. Meeting the Last Angel

  


Do the Angels Still Fly?

  
by: the Bloody Englishman (No, I don't own Cowboy Bebop. So sue me. Wait, no. Actually, don't sue me. That would be better.)  
Meeting the Last Angel  
Jet quickly flailed a toothbrush about his mouth, trying desperately to get the rest of his ISSP overalls on. Water dripped from the towel around Faye's head, as she continued painting her toenails. Ed sat in the floor, gobbeling cereal.  
"Jet, the shower's acting up again."  
"I'll get it later." Jet answered, muffled under toothpaste. "I'm in a hurry right now."  
"Jet-person stayed out late. Drinking again. Bet he's got a new girlfriend."  
"Really? Wow. Way to go, Jet. How many women did you pick up at that bar, last night?"  
"Be quiet. It was nothing like that. I just wanted to meet with this guy I talked to last night."  
"Ooooohhh. A guy. I get it. Well, to each his own."  
"Shut up, Faye! This is business."  
"Jet's got a boyfriend." Ed sang happily to herself.  
"Urrrr...Forget it. You're impossible." Jet stormed out of the room.  
"Come on. We're just kidding!" Faye stood and followed after. "Jet. Jet, come on. Who are you meeting, seriously? Is it about a bounty?"  
"No. Nothing like that. He's...a friend of Spike's."  
"Spike?"  
"Yeah...sort of. You know him...I think."  
"I don't know anything about.....wait. It's not...."  
"Yep. He's coming here in an hour or two." Jet walked off casually as Faye stood still, her mouth hanging open in shock.  
"Vicious!!! Are you insane?! Why the hell would you want him here?!!!"  
"I just wanna talk to him. I thought I could get things straightened out."  
"There's nothing to straighten out with him!!" Faye screamed.  
"Faye! Calm down. I'm not looking for a fight. I met him at a bar last night, and it made me think. I realized we know next to nothing about what happened. If I wanted to get the story, who better to ask?"  
"Jet..." Faye stepped towards him, "you said yourself to let the past stay buried. Why are you trying to rile it up again?"  
".....When Spike died, I rethought alot of things. If Spike was willing to die for his past, to die for her, then maybe we should find out. If it was that important, then maybe it shouldn't stay buried. I just want to shed some light on this mystery. I want to know exactly why he died."  
"What does any of that matter?!! I already lost Spike to him, so why not lose you, too?!!" Faye turned, still yelling behind her. "Throw it away, see if I care!! Don't expect me to be around when he shows up!!!"  
"Fine! Just run away again! That's sure to change things!" Jet yelled in an angry but sarcastic tone. He looked back to see Faye staring at him. Her eyes filled with tears as she screeched with rage, and then rushed off. "....Damn it!"  
The shadow of a lone figure fell on Jet's face. He looked up from the Hammerhead's engine to see the man standing before him. Jet set down his wrench and walked toward the man.  
"I was starting to think you weren't going to show up." The man tapped his sheathed sword against the ground. "You didn't have to bring that thing, you know. I don't want a fight." Jet rubbed his hands together. His breath turned misty in the air.  
"Its getting cold. Maybe we should go inside." Vicious made his way across the runway and into the garage. Jet followed closely behind. The two of them made their way through the hall.  
"You want something to drink?"  
"No." They continued on, ducking under the doorway and entered the living room. Vicious sat down in a chair across the table.  
"So...I really don't know what to say. Thanks for coming. I know this probably isn't easy to talk about."  
"What would you like to know?"  
"Well....I'm not sure. When did you meet Spike?"  
"Four or five years ago. We joined the Red Dragons together."  
"Why did you two join?"  
"We each had our reasons. I believe Spike lived on the streets before that."  
"And you?"  
"I needed something. Something to keep me on my feet. Something to challenge me. The syndicate seemed to be the answer."  
"What about...Julia?"  
"....Julia?" Vicious tapped the sword a bit more. "How about that drink?"  
"Yeah, sure. What'll ya' have, beer or milk?" Jet smiled.  
"Beer." Vicious said with closed eyes. "That'll be fine." Jet walked to the refrigerator. He rummaged through it, coming up with a bottle in each hand. "Catch." Jet tossed a bottle through the air. Vicious extended his hand, opened his pale eyes, and caught the bottle. He twisted the top off between his strong fingers, then took a sip.  
"I met Julia a bit after joining the syndicate. A few weeks, I believe. She had just joined herself. I'm not sure why."  
"Was she with Spike then?"  
"No. Spike didn't no her then." He took a long drink. "Spike....Spike and I had been sent out on several missions together. It seemed we were always assigned together."  
"So, you two were partners?"  
"You could say that, yes." Vicious sipped on his beer. "We were...we were friends. Spike was nearly my only friend. We were best friends."  
"Oh?" Jet took a drink, seeming a bit surprised. "How long ago was it that he left?"  
"About three years ago. I remember when he left. He was desperate to get out. Spike faked his death in a shoot-out. I suppose it wasn't the life for him."  
"What about you?"  
"I thought I enjoyed it. I saw so many faults, and knew they had to be fixed. The syndicate leaders were so old-fashioned. I knew I had to change things. But, when I finally did, it seemed so worthless. I was the one who decided who was killed and who we dealt with. It became so pointless."  
"So what did you do?"  
"I got out. The only way I knew anyone could." Vicious took another sip. "I guess Spike taught me a thing or two."  
"He had told me that he died once. Vicious nodded. "Except...Spike said that a woman had killed him. Was that Julia?"  
"Yes." Vicious took another drink. "He wanted her to leave the syndicate with him. When she didn't, it killed him. I think that's what he meant."  
"She didn't go with him?"  
"I wouldn't let her." Jet looked up. "I couldn't let her...couldn't let them betray me. Not again."  
"What do you mean?"  
Vicious finished off his beer. "Spike was my best friend, but Julia was my love." Jet nearly dropped his beer. "I lost her. They betrayed me, into each other's arms. It seemed like I had lost both. That's way I did what I did. I know it was wrong, but I felt like I had to get revenge." He twirled the bottle about his fingers. "When I discovered Spike was trying to get out, I met with Julia. She said she didn't want to betray me, but she still couldn't explain what had happened. She couldn't make me understand why she had betrayed me. So, I told her if she didn't kill him, I would kill both of them. Instead of shooting him, she merely left. It did kill him though. I was briefly satisfyed."  
"Vicious....I had no idea. He had never said anything about..."  
"You and Julia, huh?" A voice came in from behind them. Faye slowly walked into the living room.  
"Faye, how long have you been there?" She walked up, not answering.  
"Spike never told us that he stole Julia away from you. I just thought..."  
Vicious stood up. He towered over Faye, gazing down with his cold-blue eyes. "Thought what? You thought I was just evil?"  
"I didn't know. You seemed so cold. I just..."  
"Cold. I've been cold for so long. It wasn't all their doing. But, do you think it helped? What would have happened if they hadn't betrayed me?" Vicious stepped closer and closer. Faye backed away. "Would I be so cold? Would you still think I was evil?!" Vicious glared down into her eyes. "Things aren't always the way they seem. I know Spike was your friend. I know you were saddened by his death. I know you must hate me for what I did, but was what he did forgiveable? If you were me, if you lost everyone you cared about, how would you have felt."  
"I...I..I'm sorry. I didn't know." Vicious turned and walked towards the door. Faye wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. Jet jumped up and chased after him. He had gotten out to the garage when he caught him.  
"Vicious..." Jet laid his had on Vicious's shoulder. "I'm sorry. We had now idea what had happened."  
"I understand."  
"Please, don't leave. Stay here. There's still more we want to know. You could stay with us. There is a spot open as a bounty hunter." Vicious turned to face him. "I know its right up your alley."  
"Why would you want me to stay?"  
"This was a misunderstanding. Help us understand. Besides, the Bebop seems to be a home for strays."  
"No. I can't." Vicious turned and began back towards the dock. "I still have my own things to take care of. I just can't. I just can't...trust."  
_To be continued...  
_


	4. Walk in the Rain

  


Do the Angels Still Fly?

  


Walk in the Rain

Wind blew, but Vicious continued along the path. His white scarf flapped in the frigid air. His hands were full, with his katana in one and a bouqet of roses in the other. Walking through the puddles of water, he soon came upon his destination. Vicious stared down at the headstones, kneeling next to the right one. Nestling the flowers next to the tombstone, he ran his cold fingers along the lifeless stone. Vicious crouched down between the two graves.

"Feels like its been so long. Funny how weeks fly by." Vicious took his sword by the sheath in both hands. "You're gone. You're both really gone. Why? Did you want this? Were you just trying to leave me? To betray me again?" Vicious watched water droplets run down the rose petals. "When you left, Julia, when you betrayed me, I didn't know what I would do. You were the only one I ever truly loved. The only sense in my sorrow. The world had been so cruel to me, but not you. You were so kind...so warm. Being with you made me forget. I didn't have to remember everything that had happened to me. I loved you. But, I didn't think I could do anything after you were gone. I didn't want to know if I could." He paused a moment, listening to the rain pour down. "You said you didn't want to betray me. I didn't believe you. Back then, I couldn't. The fact that I was losing you was too much for me. I was looking for somebody to blame. Somebody besides myself. Was it my fault? Did I drive you away? Maybe...you weren't meant to be with me. I hate that thought, but maybe its the truth. Perhaps I was just a stepping stone."

Vicious turned his faded eyes toward Spike's grave. "Merely someone to deliver her to you. Is that all I was? My happiness was irrelavent, as long as you two could be brought together. It was just destiny. You were meant to be together, and I was meant to be left behind." He closed his eyes. "Is that it? Just destiny? Or did you take her from me? Was it your fault that I ended up like this? Was it you who did this to me?" He clutched his sword tightly. "You were my best friend, Spike. So why? Why did you do this to me?!" Vicious could feel the raindrops running down his face.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to end up this way. I am Vicious. I am cold and calculating. I am merciless. Bringing death, spilling blood, ruining lives, that is what I am. I'm not supposed to care what happens to others. Why then, do I care about you? I am heartless. Then how, how do I love without a heart? Everything else, everything, I can shut out. I can force it out of my life, and stop caring." Vicious drew the hilt of his sword out. "I never forget. I've never forgotten a thing. I still remember before the syndicate. Before everything happened to me. I just shut my emotions off and stop caring. I've always done that. But, with you, I can't. I want to just forget it, but I know that won't happen. I wish so much that I could just put this away, just stop caring. But...I can't." Vicious felt his hands tremble. The water droplets flooded down his cheeks. Not rain, but tears. "I have to. I have to remember, and I have to care. I have to love.

With one swift movement, Vicious drew his sword, holding the blade against his own throat. His voice trembled now. "So many times, I wanted it to end. Everything that had happened, and everything I had become, I just wanted to stop it all. And I thought, I thought about how easy it would be. I knew I could just...one simple motion, and it could end. I could go there. Where you ascended to. The place that you went, and left me behind."

Slowly, he lowered the sword, letting the tip rest on the ground. "But, I didn't. I always hated myself for those moments of weakness. I despised the fact that I still felt. I cared...I loved...I could actually feel pain and sadness again. Was it because you were gone? Because I knew I could never see you again?" He knelt down again, letting himself cry. "Because I'm still human. I loved you both, yet hated you. I can't help but feel. What does that mean? What I'm I supposed to do now? I've lost my only love, lost my best friend, lost the syndicate....I've lost everything. Who? Whose fault is all of this? Who did this?"

Looking up, Vicious could see the sky full of clouds. "You." His eyes filled with anger. "YOU!!! You've done this to me!! You're the one who gave me this cursed existence. You turned me into this...this...this wandering beast. I don't even have my pack anymore. What good is a lone beast?!!!" Vicious shouted. He continued to stare at the gray sky, letting his rage loose. "Why did you even put me here?!! Why did you even bother?!!!! You took it all away from me!!! WHY?!!! Why?" Cool wind lifted his hair. "Where are they? When we're in trouble, you're supposed to send you angels down to help us. So, where are they? Where have my angels been? Why should I even believe? I'll just have to trust myself. I'll just have to be my own angel...a fallen angel. Just a devil."

Suddenly, the flutter of wings caught his ear. Vicious looked forward to see two, pure white doves land on the headstones. His eyes were blank, as his mouthed gaped open. He didn't dare to move. Still gazing in wonder, he let his sword drop to the ground. It's clang echoed, but the doves didn't move. On his knees, Vicious crawled forward. He inched his way to the space between the tombstones. Ever so slowly, Vicious reached a hand out to each one. He rubbed a finger along the backs of their necks.

"Are...are you...." He turned to his right, admiring the beautiful creature. Looking into it's eyes, he could see a crystal blue in them. Vicious then examined the one on his right. After looking long and hard, he could see it. The reddish-brown color, with a slight change of tint in the right eye. Vicious wrapped his hands tightly around them both and stood. "You came back. I thought you had left...thought you had betrayed me...but you came back." He lifted his hands, bringing both doves to his face. "I could crush you both. Let your blood seep through my fingers. Would that put my pain to rest?" He stared into their eyes. Their eyes seemed to be filled with tears themselves. The doves struggled with their wings, trying in vain to break his grasp. "You still don't want to stay with me, do you?" He opened his hands palm-up, but the doves didn't fly off. "What?" The doves remained, still looking up with their teary eyes. "You...you'll stay? You'll stay if I want you to?" Vicious wanted to smile, but knew he couldn't. "Why can't I be happy? I can be sad or angry, but not happy. Why?" He took a deep breath and sighed, watching his breath turn to mist. "Its you. You wanna be free. You gotta be free." Vicious took a last look, smiled, and threw his arms upward, letting the doves fly away. They spirled around each other, flying toward the parting clouds. A few of the clouds drifted away, revealing a perfectly blue sky. Vicious continued watching the doves, as a single feather floated down, landing on his face. He took it, holding it lightly in his hand. Vicious picked his sword up off the ground and tore his sheath from his waist. He slid the blade into it, then rest it onto Spike's grave, alongside of a wet pack of cigarettes. Vicious ran the soft feather between his fingers, finally deciding to place it on Julia's grave, among the rose petals. He wrapped the scarf around his neck, as the rain began changing to a light snow. "....Thank you. Now...maybe I can be free. Maybe I can let it go." He turned his back to the graves, and walked away.

"Great, another one to replace." Jet tossed a small part toward the back of the garage. He picked up a wrench and continued working on the ship. Jet stopped suddenly, then looked over his shoulder. There, in the doorway, stood a tall, pale figure, his gray-hair soaked. "Oh, it's you." He stood up as Vicious entered the room.

"A home for strays, huh? Not bad for an old fishing boat."

"You reconsidered the offer?"

"I...I've had a chance to think. I'm not sure what I'll do, but I do need a place to stay. Just for a while."

"Sure. You're welcome to..but I thought Faye would only be here for a while, too." He smiled at Vicious, who returned it. He looked so different now, just with a simple smile. "Don't mind sleeping on the couch, do ya'?" Vicious shook his head, still smiling. He made his way back down the hall, whistling to himself. The old, familiar tune echoed as he disappeared down the hall. Jet went back to his work, still listening to the whitstling. "Nice tune. Real easy."

__

Whatever happens, happens.


End file.
